


look to your kingdoms

by lithiumlaughter



Series: Avengers 919: Love, Blood, and Rhetoric [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers 919, Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithiumlaughter/pseuds/lithiumlaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier has reared her head and sent a clear message: look to your kingdoms. I am coming for them all.</p><p>Nikolai and Colleen know that messages, as a rule, are meant to be replied to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title and epigraph of this story come from the poem "love letters from helen of troy". I haven't been able to find an author's name outside of the initials "e.h.", but should someone know who I can credit properly, please let me know.  
> Beyond that, any linguistic/translation errors, or errors in the representation of a Deaf individual throughout this story are mine and mine alone -- please, corrections are welcome and will be incorporated ASAP. Finally, thank you (yes, YOU, the one reading this) for giving this little piece a chance.

_maybe it's time we found out_

_what the daughter of the mightiest god_

_can do._

_look to your kingdoms_

_i am coming for them all_

 

Chapter 1

 

She was woken by the bright flashes of her alarm clock.

There were only two reasons it would go off like that: one, it was her typical five o’clock wake up call, or two, Philippa had triggered it because some sort of crisis was in progress. Seeing as the clock read 2:24 AM, the latter was the clear purpose.

Sitting up, Colleen scrubbed at her face for a moment. The sensation was neither comforting nor strictly necessary, but she did it just the same before reaching to her bedside table and snapping open the small case that had been sitting there to reveal two small buds.

Right ear first, left ear second, as was her habit, and then one more scrub at her face for good measure. There were different sets of feet walking past her door, but not enough and none fast enough to indicate a major crisis in progress. Philippa’s triggering of the alarm, however, indicated that there was _some_ kind of situation to be dealt with and Colleen’s presence in the briefing room was not optional.

Slamming down on the sleep button of her clock, she rose and grabbed the purple tee-shirt she’d left balled up in the corner. Yanking it over the tank top she’d fallen asleep in, she then exchanged her flannel boxers for a pair of jeans that lay on the floor nearby. There was no need to get fully changed or to suit up until the briefing was complete.

Tugging on shoes with one hand (she was really going to have to replace the ratty Converses one of these days) and pounding the button that opened her room’s door with the other, she headed towards the briefing room.

Nikolai was already there and properly dressed – which meant both his shirt and pants lacked the wrinkles that Collie’s own were sporting – once she arrived. So Strike Team Delta was being deployed.

“Morning,” he said, amusedly, his accent a little stronger than was typical. He wasn’t fully awake either then; his accent only smoothed out after a hot shower.

“Morning,” she replied, making a closer examination of her partner. Nikolai’s cheek was a pale, sickly shade of old bruise, and he was rubbing at his scabbed knuckles in what would have come across as a nonchalant gesture to anybody else. She saw it for the simmering memory of their last mission that it was, but said nothing. He knew she knew. She’d been right there when it happened, and she knew Nikolai. He was mulling over some asshole’s heavy, angular, metal vambrace that Nikolai’s fist had made awkward contact with. He was probably designing gel-based knuckle guards in his head.

He, of course, was taking similar stock of her. Her upper arm was wrapped in a gauze bandage due to an unfortunate case of falling out a window and getting a nice, long slash courtesy of one of the resulting chunks of broken glass. Colleen saw his eyes narrow a little as he looked at it. It had healed up well, which was a pleasant surprise. The stitches were holding nicely, and the cut had not been deep enough to cause any muscle damage that would prevent her from firing her bow. Which was, as far as she was concerned, what mattered.

Par for the course injuries on both their parts, really. The cataloguing happened anyways. Making brief eye contact, there was the silent exchange of ‘are you doing alright?’ and affirmative responses between the two of them. They then traded brief nods.

Satisfied as she ever got, Colleen ran a hand through her cropped hair, which did nothing for the bedhead she was already sporting. She looked towards a table at the back of the room where a coffee dispenser sat. “Tell me that’s full.”

Nikolai nodded, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “Coulson put it on before she sounded the alert.”

Praise God. She went and filled one of the mugs set neatly next to the dispenser. Inhaling deeply, Collie took a contented sip and collapsed in to one of the chairs around the table.

The door to the room swung open, and both Nicole Fury and Philippa entered.

Colleen’s lips pursed as she wrapped both her hands around her cup. Both she and Nikolai being called? Both Fury and Coulson at the briefing? Last time that had happened, Budapest had ended up happening, and _that_ was saying something.

“At ease,” Fury said dryly, an arched eyebrow the only change to her features as her eyes settled on Colleen. She only took another sip of coffee. If this was as bad as it seemed, caffeine was going to be very necessary.

“How bad is it?” Nikolai asked.

“Code Schism.”

This caused Colleen to sit up entirely straight: full out military posture, quicker than it took to think it.

“Schism?”

That explained why there was no sign of a crisis situation anywhere in the compound, and why Fury and Philippa were there. If it was Schism…

“Business time then,” she said, voice even.

The joke within SHIELD was that Code Schism meant never having to say you’re sorry.

Officially, Code Schism was the designation for any operation that was a specific defense of SHIELD itself. Schism designation was rare, given the highly clandestine nature of SHIELD in the first place, but not entirely without precedent.

Very, very little precedent.

In actual practice, Code Schism was shorthand for what was essentially carte blanche. Any pretence at delicacy went out the window, and while remaining covert was still the order of the day, the majority of restrictions typically imposed upon SHIELD operatives – even the very few that were imposed on Strike Team Delta -- were waived.

Code Schism made almost any means to an end fair game. SHIELD clean-up crews would on standby to take care of any mess of any kind.

So, how bad was it?

Philippa removed a folder from the clipboard cradled in her arm. “We’ve got intel on the Winter Soldier.”

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

“The Winter Soldier,” Nikolai said tightly, his hands balling in to fists and then releasing again.

Philippa nodded. She slid the folder across the table to him, and somewhere between that point and when he opened it, Colleen was behind him and peering over his shoulder.

It was a collection of photographs. Flipping through, he recognized all the different locations: Morocco, Belize, Hong Kong, New Zealand, Turkey, Albania, Italy. Each photograph bore one thing in common, and that was a woman consistently in long sleeved shirts making direct eye contact with the camera.

Those clear blue eyes were all too familiar. Unfairly so, perhaps. The briefest memory of waltzing crossed his mind and disappeared as quickly, though his foot tapped out two bars of ¾ time.

“These are stills taken from different CCTVs,” Philippa explained. “They popped because of FRS matches.”

Fury took a seat at one of the chairs, tenting her fingers. “She wants someone to see what she’s doing. The question is who she’s trying to show off to, and why the hell she does.”

Nikolai grit his teeth. He looked up at Philippa, eyes narrowed and beginning to burn. “Why didn’t you show me these earlier?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see a brief bristle from Colleen at the ‘me’. He would have to apologize later. Right now there were bigger issues.

“We just got them.” Philippa’s words were calm. “Why do you think I have you awake at this hour?”

“How could you miss this? Where did you get these?” He fought hard to keep his voice cool, but was finding it difficult. Colleen’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder helped in a small way.

“Ever heard of LEAF?” Philippa asked.

“No.”

“Then they’ve apparently been doing their job right,” Nicole said, a certain something creeping in to her voice. It wasn’t irritation, because Fury didn’t do irritation. She did cool, sharp edge, and it was in full play right now. “They’re a Canadian sort of SHIELD.”

Philippa continued. “They’ve only just made themselves known to us. They made contact and sent us this intel 45 minutes ago. We’re trying to start navigating diplomacy and jurisdictional issues with them, but what we’re concerned about right now are these photographs.”

“So,” Colleen said, and the single word was resignation, calculation, and concern all in one. She was shifting gears from Colleen to Hawkeye. “A Canadian organization that has managed to stay far enough under the radar that we had no idea they even existed, pops up with better intel than we’ve got on something they shouldn’t even know we’re interested in because we don’t technically know it either, and then passes it along to us when they shouldn’t even know we exist in the first place. Why?”

“The latest hit is in Canada.” Philippa took an envelope that had been tucked in to her clipboard, and passed it to Colleen. Inside was yet another photograph of the woman. She frowned at the photo before passing it to Nikolai. This time, the woman in the picture had her hand raised in a salute, and her face was graced with a grin that could have qualified as feral. The light glinted off the silver of her fingers.

“Kingston, Ontario -- a hop, skip, and a jump from there to the border in to New York State.”

He looked from the photo to Fury and Coulson. “And?”

“Look at them chronologically.”

Nikolai placed them down on the table, spreading them out. Shifting them around based on the date and time stamps in the lower corners of the photos, his breath hitched. The connection between time and geography clicked.

Of course. Of course she would do this.

Part of him wanted to say he should have seen this coming. Quite a large part of him, in fact. He should have known it would only be a matter of time before she would come. The Winter Soldier did not forget; she simply bided her time, and now she was –

This line of thought was interrupted quickly.

“Hey,” Colleen said sharply, her hand finding his shoulder one more time, though coming down with slightly more force. She switched over to Ukrainian. “ _Tse ne vasha vyna.”_

(This is not your fault.)

He shifted slightly to catch her eye. “ _Chomu ty tak vpevnenyy?_ ”

(Why are you so sure?)

Philippa arched an eyebrow at the exchange, but let it pass in favour of speaking up before Colleen had a chance to reply. “She’s been bouncing around the world, moving closer and closer.”

“And now,” Fury said, each syllable a razor, “she’s knocking at our door.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

 

In her quarters, Colleen laced up her boots.

Now dressed in full tac gear she actually looked like the soldier-spy-assassin-whatever her actual job title was rather than the slouchy hobo that had collapsed her way in to the briefing room about twenty minutes ago.

The final touch was her quiver and her bow, slung over her shoulders crosswise. She gave a quick shrug and everything fell in to the comfortable and familiar place that it belonged in.

A quick check of her sidearm (loaded), the knife at her hip (sharpened), hearing aid case (packed), and one final readjustment of her arm guard and she was good to go.

The walk to the hangar was an interesting one. It was a ten minute journey if you moved at a good clip, which, of course, she did. Coulson, despite how placid she might seem, could be vicious if provoked.

The walk gave her time to think. This was normally a good thing. Colleen was not so sure of this today. She had ten minutes in which to put things together in her head. As far as she was concerned this was not enough given the situation, but she would do what she could with the time given.

Winter Soldier. Once Brenda “Bee” Barnes. Friend to Stella Rogers during WWII. Kidnapped, experimented on, and brainwashed by the USSR into a weapon who was used to create and train the Russian government’s _initsiativa pauk,_ the Spider Initiative, which had produced Nikolai.

And now, apparently, on her way to tear SHIELD a new one.

She blew out a breath. As if the whole HYDRA thing hadn’t been enough.

To be fair though, Bee had been warning them in her weird, roundabout way. SHIELD just hadn’t seen it. Thank God for LEAF then, and Canadian politeness, if that was indeed what it was. Colleen wasn’t particularly interested in dwelling on international subterfuge-y chess though; Bee herself posed a more immediate concern.

She pulled on her sunglasses as she entered the hangar itself. Halfway across it, she met with Nikolai and Philippa.

“Director Fury is waiting on the helipad,” Coulson said, leading the way. “You’re going to be dropped off at Alexandria Bay. It’s right by the Thousand Islands Bridge border crossing, which is as close as we can get you. LEAF is refusing to set foot on American soil, and now that we’re officially liaising with them, we’re not allowed in to Canada without an invite.”

“Jurisdictional law,” Nikolai murmured. “Such fun.”

“From what we can tell, LEAF is more an intelligence organization than anything else. They’ve apparently got some operatives tailing the Winter Soldier, but they’ll only engage if the she poses a direct threat to Canadian interests.” Philippa shrugged apologetically. “It’s how they work. As soon as she crosses the border though—”

“—which she obviously will—” Colleen interjected, rolling her shoulder and flexing the fingers of her right hand.

“— she’s ours.” Nikolai finished, his own hands fists. Pressing her palm in to her forehead, Colleen tried not to grit her teeth. She tapped on his shoulder to get his attention.

 _I heard that,_ she signed, dropping in to their third and final shared language.

“What?” he asked, appearing genuinely confused.

 _You might as well have said ‘mine’_ , _not ‘ours’,_ she answered. Her hands were moving faster and more sharply than she intended.

He switched to sign language too. _I didn’t—_

_Don’t even try that with me. I know you better than that. This is not just your fight. We’re called Strike Team Delta. We do this together._

He raised his hands as if to continue the argument, but dropped them. It was a hollow victory, but she’d take it.

Coulson continued without missing a beat. “We couldn’t set up a meet between you and the Canadians, unfortunately. It would have been a good peace offering.” Her lips puckered for a moment as she pulled out her cell, looked at the screen, sighed deeply, then pressed a few buttons before putting it away. “What we did just get is word that the Winter Soldier is approaching the crossing as we speak. We’ve got information about the car she’s in, three possible pseudonyms, and last known coordinates. I’ve just transferred it all on to your handhelds.”

By this point, they’d reached the helipad, where Nicole Fury stood waiting, arms crossed, and the pilot had the chopper whirring to life. Colleen grabbed Nikolai’s attention one more time.

 _Together,_ she reminded him, hands sharp again. He nodded.

His hands were much softer. _Together. I promise._

“You done sharing secrets?” Fury asked, voice audible above the sound of the helicopter blades. “Because if you are, I’m sure you’ve noticed that there’s a helicopter waiting to get you to the border.”

Tucking her omnipresent clipboard beneath her arm as Strike Team Delta got in to the helicopter, Philippa’s hands began a slow, obviously carefully practiced motion. One hand over the other, index and middle fingers extended foreword, she moved them in a circle pointed towards them.

_Be careful._

Colleen didn’t have the opportunity to express her surprise. Philippa had turned and disappeared before the helicopter was up and gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, because I'm a loser who wanted to share as much as I had written as quickly as I could, I've posted the first three chapters of this fic without a fourth having been completed yet. Forgive me, as I don't know when the fourth will eventually make its appearance.
> 
> Repetition of my statement back at the beginning of this fic though: any linguistic/translation errors, or errors in the representation of a Deaf individual throughout this story are mine and mine alone -- please, corrections are welcome and will be incorporated ASAP. 
> 
> Thanks once more for giving this a go.


End file.
